True Love Restraint
by otaku6652
Summary: A story about a rich, orphaned yandere and his new play thing. LenxRin, no incest. Loosely based off the song.
1. A meeting

"You stupid little brat! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to slice you into chunks of meat and feed you to pigs!" He yelled, chasing after me with a knife in his hand.

I tore through the immense mansion we lived in, up several flights of stairs until I reached the top floor. There was a gun hidden in my jacket, one he didn't know was there.

Cornered against the balcony, I trembled and faced my father.

"I'm going to kill you." He roared as an evil smirk flashed across his face.

My heart pounded.

Cold sweat dripped from my face and hands.

My eyes widened until my irises were tiny blue pinheads.

I trembled. Tremors ran through my body and zings of energy pumped along with my blood.

Then I smiled.

"Not if I kill you first."

Then I woke up, shivering and panting. That same nightmare. Every night. Like it was reminding me of the sins I had committed.

I pulled the silk covers off of me and quietly exited my bedroom. The house, or mansion, was deathly cold as usual. I liked it that way.

The servants and maids turned pale at the sight of me and hurried bowed, always terrified. I liked it that way.

The mansion was silent enough to hear my own breathing while I calmly drank my morning coffee. People were too scared to speak to me. I liked it that way.

Who am I?

Len Kagamine. Rich. Handsome. Cruel. Evil. Psycho. Orphan.

That sums it up.

I don't go to school, even though I'm still a teenager. I have a tutor. Not that he ever actually tutors me. I study on my own. If I want to.

I live in an old castle, far from the nearest city. Isolated. High security that even the police are afraid of. It's like the government either doesn't know I exist, or they just don't care.

I'm alone.

I've been alone ever since that day. Not that I care.

But today I feel a sense of boredom. I guess I'll go out.

The warm, early September air greets me and I cringe. Warmth is so annoying. I want to strangle the sun. Beat it. Slowly trace a knife down its front. But that's silly. It's the SUN.

I take my limousine to the city and get out in front of a church. Maybe I'll go to confession and scare the shit out of the priest. They called me the devil's spawn. I agree.

A bell rings in the faint distance and a flood of students come pouring out from a nearby building. Oh that's right, it's a Tuesday. And around 2pm. School must be out.

People. Simple-minded people my own age. How annoying. I head back to my limo.

Then I saw her. Short, pale gold hair and blue-green eyes. In a short school uniform revealing her bare, smooth legs.

My heart rate increased tenfold. My body is on fire. I want her. I want to chain her up in my room and play with her. I want to have her all to myself. I love her.

I go to her.

"Can I help you?" She asks in a sweet, cheerful, high-pitched voice. Is that how she talks to others? Suddenly I want to rip out her vocal cords.

"Don't talk." I mutter. My hand darts out and I grab her by her skinny wrist. I pull her closer and stare at her.

"W-What are you doing?" She squeals.

"I said don't talk!" I yell. That was louder than I wanted. Some people come over. Two girls. One with pink hair and one with blue hair in pigtails. Two boys. One that looks like the blue-haired girl and one with long purple hair.

"Get off of her!" Shouts the boy.

My breath hitches in my throat. They're surrounding me. Yelling at me. I panic. What do I do? They're getting in my way. I want to kill them.

"I said don't talk!" I scream. I throw the girl over my shoulder and start running. They chase after me. I run faster. They're trying to hurt me, take away what's mine. I won't let them.

The girl shrieks. I barrel into my limo.

"Drive!"

My chauffeur accelerates and floors it to my mansion.

"What do you think you're doing?!" She shrieks. She's getting angry. But I can see the fear in her eyes.

"Don't talk."

I drag her into the living room. The doors lock behind us. I smile.

I examine her. So beautiful. So fragile. So doll-like. I love it.

"Stay with me. I'm the one you love, right?"


	2. Breaking the ice

_SMACK!_

The sharp sound rang through the air.

A stinging pain crept up on my cheek and I slowly turned to look at her.

"Get away from me, you creep!" She screams. She runs to the door and desperately tries to leave.

I start to smile.

"You can't escape." I gleefully boast. She's really scared now. So cute. Her eyes are widening. Such pretty eyes.

"Feel free to stay in any of the rooms here. Even mine." I throw a wink at her with the last sentence. She looks horrified. I even love her horrified face.

Why am I so happy? The girl is nothing but happy but I am bursting with joy. Like a kid getting a brand new toy on his birthday.

Suddenly a flashback ripples through my placid mind.

A small boy with blond hair is curled up on the ground. He silently cries. Alone and desperately wanting someone, anyone, to be with him. There's blood on his shirt and hands. He won't stop shaking.

I harshly suck in air. Clenching my fists, I retreat into the study.

There is a small wooden desk sitting in the middle of rows and rows of books. So many books that there is a staircase leading to the second floor. My books. My beloved books. The only company I accept in this world.

I sit in my favorite spot. In the corner in a niche just large enough for a person in the wall. It's hidden behind a stack of my favorite books. It used to be my hiding place. Now it's just a calm place for me to relax.

What is the girl doing now? Probably taking a look around my mansion. Or trying to escape. Either one makes my heart throb for her. I want to be with her. Where is she?

After some time, I fell asleep. I don't know how long I was there. When I woke up, I found dried tears on my face.

I head outside for my morning coffee. To my surprise, she is already sitting there. Eating. Delicately, similar to a princess. How lovely.

I get closer.

Her eyes are red and puffy, as if she was crying. She notices me but doesn't say anything. I can sense her fear. It thrills me.

"What are you eating?" I ask.

She hesitates before answering. "A sandwich."

I start to laugh at her simplicity in dining choices. Then I get confused.

"Why would you eat a sandwich for breakfast?" I chuckle.

She stares at me. Almost incredulously.

"I'm having lunch. It's 1:30."

"Oh." I say. Maybe I should start keeping track of time so I can coordinate my schedule with hers.

I drink my morning coffee.

She finishes her sandwich. Slowly and cautiously, she starts to leave. I sigh. That was far too little time with her. I should follow her.

I quietly follow her. She goes to the TV room. I haven't been there in years. I hate the television. She turns on a random channel.

A stupid, cheesy program plays. Some kid show about this family with magic powers. They're smiling. Laughing together. Having fun together.

Anger and hatred twists inside my gut. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

"Turn it off!" I screech.

The girl nearly falls off the couch in shock and fear. She scrambles for the remote and turns it off. I sit down across from her. It's quiet.

I like quiet.

After a while, she looks at me and speaks. "Is there any reception here?" I notice a pink cellphone sticking out from her pocket.

"No." I answer. Her face falls. Tears swim around in her eyes. A truly pitiful sight. It's exciting me. I love it so much.

A swift impulse sparks through me.

I jump up and pounce on her. Leering only a few inches away from her face, I pin down her hands and stare at her.

She's open-mouthed and gasping in surprise. Then she scrunches up her face in horror and desperately tries to back away. So cute.

I lower my head and hover above her white neck. I brush my lips across it, feeling the warm skin burn under my touch. When I raise my head, she's bright red.

That will be as far as I go today.

Breaking away our eye contact, I hop off and leave. A grin wildly stretches across my face as I head back into the library.

Her warmth, her touch, her raw emotions pouring out. It's something I haven't experienced for the longest time. I'm burning with the agony of being away from her.

I want to go back to her. Hold her in my arms. Kiss her. Bite her. Grab her. Hit her.

Crazy daydreams run through my head. I haven't been like this before. I touch my lips. I can still feel her soft skin against them. I want MORE.

I sit down at my desk and pull out a pencil and some paper. I can see her ethereal face glowing in my mind. My hand moves on its own until a perfect replica rests on the paper. I stare at it. It will have to do.

I manage to fall back asleep.

It's the same nightmare. But this time, I see her face right before I raise the gun. Her face contorts in terror and disgust at me. The blood is everywhere.

I jolt awake.

Breathing heavily, I shake and moan. It's too much. I can't stand it. I'm being consumed. I hate it.

I run into my niche and pull my knees to my chest.

Relax. Relax. Relax. God dammit.

I go back to sleep.


	3. Fleeting Desires

A/N: I'm thinking of making a love triangle, but I don't know who Len's rival is going to be. Oliver? Mikuo? Kaito? Others? I could use some feedback on this.

* * *

><p>She keeps trying to run away.<p>

Trying every single window and door, attempting to sneak out with every staff member she comes across. Desperately searching for a signal or landline phone. Even sending texts and calls she knows won't go through.

It's truly pathetic and adorable at the same time. Part of me wants to tease her and allow her to wander off, only to pull her back in. Her spirit is admirable, but easily crushed.

Those little friends of hers probably ran crying to the police. I will laugh if they manage to find us. After all the years, I've learned how to hide my footprints very well. I had to.

People these days rely on technology too much. Then they wonder why they get scammed, spied on, lack privacy, and the list goes on. Now guess who holds the advantage in this situation? I have nothing for people to track, no ways of contemporary communication, no way for others to hunt me down.

I found her just a few hours ago on a window sill. Fourth floor. Utterly reckless and stupid.

Her foot slipped.

She screamed as she fell and screamed even more when I caught her. The very sound stimulated my insides. Such a pleasing, wonderful sound. If only she screamed more often.

Her cute face is scrunched up in fright. She peeks at me from the corners of her eyes while trying, and failing, to calm down. I'm surprised by how light she is. Truly my doll, mine to hold and play with as I desire. But a toy isn't supposed to run away.

"Where do you think you're going?" I whisper in her ear.

Not answering, she squirms out of my arms and scampers away. Stumbling over the grass, she swiftly picks herself up and rushes back inside without daring to spare me another glance. What a rude girl she is, after I just saved her life.

Lowering my still stupidly outstretched arms, I shrug and head into my bedroom. I stare at my bed. Most couples share a bed. We ought to sleep together. Just sleeping in the same room would be enough.

Perhaps it would be better if I chained her to my bedpost.

I can still picture her pale face, feel her weight on my arms, her breath tickling my neck, the softness and warmth of her body. A lovely body I want to take control of. The desire burns away at the little emotion I have left.

Dammit.

I shouldn't have let her go so quickly back then.

Where is the little doll now? Drowning her sorrows in whatever room she's sleeping in? Poking away at another, horribly simple sandwich? Watching that damned television I should have gotten rid of long ago?

I go to each possible room and find her curled up on the floor of the bedroom all the way at the end of the house, rather difficult for the average person to find in the maze of hallways. Did she choose it on purpose in hopes that I wouldn't find her? Precious. And naïve.

I know every inch of this house. All nine floors and each and every room. No one can escape me here, and no one can trap me. Unless it's on a balcony.

Upon entrance, she jumps up at the sight of me.

"W-What are you doing here?" She quivers.

I'm bursting with laughter at her unchanging simplicity. "I live here. This entire mansion belongs to me."

"What do you want?" She asks.

"You know the answer to that, I'm sure."

In a heartbeat, I'm on top of her. She's sitting with her back against the wall as I lazily straddle her like a cat. My hands against hers, I lean in.

Gently, I graze over her cheek dangerously close to her lips. Her cheeks grow hot and flushed as a tear escapes from her right eye.

Nimbly, I catch it with my tongue and savor the salty fluid. Yet it's another fluid I crave.

As I move down her body, my attacks grow stronger.

I nip at her white neck and smile at every bruise I leave behind. Her smooth collarbone is like a juicy bone to the wolf that I am. She lets out a small cry of pain as I bite down hard. It sends shudders through my body. But there is still so much to explore.

Her body tenses as I reach a rather sensitive area. Her patience is wearing thin. Still, I am unable to stop myself and buttons go flying as I rip open her white blouse. A graceful, but admittedly plain piece of light yellow fabric adorns her smooth breasts. Disappointingly small, but I continue to love every part of her.

Approaching her cautiously as a hunter would a rabbit, I start with light caresses over the tops. The creamy softness is like nothing I have ever experienced. Pecks turn into licks. My tongue runs over the sweet treat and I indulge myself in vanilla goodness.

"P-Please get away." She whimpers, fully knowing it's no use.

Her pleas only fed the growing hunger inside me and I reach to tear off the yellow cotton barrier between me and the cherry on the tip of the ice cream. Her leg tenses beneath me and I sense a potential threat to my banana. As if that will stop me.

But diving into a pot of gold today would only ruin the rest of the journey. One treasure is for the halfway point, the other is for our ending.

I tease her for a moment, lingering my hand over the fragile line between us. Then I pull away and relief spreads over face.

"Don't think I'm done with you." I murmur.

To add to the dramatics of it, I slink away without another sound, leaving her vandalized and gaping.

Today was a good day.


	4. Blood and Flowers

A/N: This is completely from Len's point of view, so if there's something big that I left out, it's probably because Len has no clue or doesn't care. Like how Mikuo (tentative love interest) is scouring the country for Rin. And Rin's conflicting emotions as she tries to understand Len more. And whatever Rin's guardians are doing. Or guardian, I should say.

p.s. I slipped in a shower scene for you fangirls, you're welcome ;)

* * *

><p>Something has changed about her.<p>

She looks at me differently. Less absolute fear and more…something else. I don't understand it.

I led her to the kitchen and sat her down in front of the table. This was going to be fun.

She watches with apprehension as I take a live chicken out from a cage. My servant caught it for me the other day. I didn't know this country had so many wild chickens roaming around. But in this world, money can get you anything. Even innocence in the face of a crime.

"Hold it down." I command.

Her eyes widen with realization and anxiety when she gets an inkling of what's about to occur. Not so simple-minded after all, it appears. So very slightly she shakes her head, as if trying to convince herself that I'm not about to do what she's imagining.

Truthfully speaking, I saw this on the television as I passed by it a little while ago. She had foolishly forgotten to turn the blasted thing off.

I pull out a large, rectangular blade imported from Asia. I just can't wait.

We both tremble. Me, from excitement; her, from dread.

A sickening sound fills the air as blood splatters and spills over us from a violent stab wound in the neck. Its head is completely chopped off from the sheer force of the impact. Warm red liquid dribbles across my face as I look to her in glee.

She is pale and lightly sweating and ready to hurl her insides. Bright crimson paints her white face and dress. Her eyes are shut tight.

"That's what I will do to anyone who comes between us. Because you are my one and only." I say gravely. I sure hope she knows how strong and sincere my feelings are now.

Instead of screaming and running, she only stares at me for a moment and slowly exits. It was a disappointment. Just what is going through her head?

Something has changed.

I haven't seen her since. Where is she hiding? Not in any of the rooms. Where is my pet?

Ah, but before I search, I ought to wash up. Dried blood coats my entire front. I can't possibly present myself to her like this.

Slipping off my clothes, I enter my shower. A rather high-tech device in comparison to the rest of my house. There is a touch-screen panel with many options from water pressure to temperature. I had it installed since I was always washing things off of me.

The ice-cold water splashes over my bare chest and flows down, along with the majority of the blood. I roughly scrub unscented soap over my body and face. Quickest way to get rid of dried blood.

This is only for her. I personally think dark red contrasts nicely to my pale, marble-like skin. Sometimes I leave it on for hours just to concern the servants. And scare them.

Despite my thinness, years of violence has earned me strength beneath my soft skin. I curse my hair for being so…sunny. I always though a pure black would suit me better. My ice-blue eyes, however, freeze through others souls with one glance. Yes, even a psychopath, pays attention to his body. I'm still a teenager, after all.

Only when I'm cold enough to slip into hypothermic shock do I turn off the water. The droplets slide down my biceps, chest, and faint abdominal muscles. I shake my head a bit like a feral dog and my wet hair flops down over my bored face. Never have I felt the urge to wrap a towel around my waist, as I do not come into contact with others very often.

Perhaps I should present myself to her, just like this.

But I don't. In the end, I decide to settle on some old jeans and a leather jacket. Now it's time to go find my lover.

I found her in the yard.

She was trying to fix up the masses of dead, shriveled up plants. How silly.

"What are you doing?" I ask, even though it's obvious.

She jumps and turns around. Why is she always so startled? Does she not realize that I live here as well? "Just doing some gardening."

"All the plants are dead. There's no point." I flatly respond. Is she stupid? All the easier to manipulate.

"Not all of them." She softly murmurs.

A bright orange butterfly weed sat in a pile of dirt. So annoying. The minute she left, I ripped the flower out and crushed it with my hands.

I don't want her to look at or admire anything except me.

I toss the pulpy remains of the flower in the trash.

Yet I can't stop thinking about it. Does she like flowers? Did she want a flower? Why does she find joy in some plant? Should I give her a flower? What's the point?

No. Her love should go to me and only me.

The next day, I gave her a flower.

An arbutus. I rather liked the meaning behind it. "I love only you."

She had a strange look on her face when she accepted it. A mixture of confusion and…surprise? But not the bad kind. It makes me happy.

"Thank you." She says.

As I sit in the library reading, I feel a sense of boredom. I want to do something. I want to do something with her. Now. I'm so BORED.

What should I do with her? Bond her and whip her? Kiss her? Cut her until she bleeds? The thoughts excite me and I'm practically drooling with anticipation.

Then a better idea comes across me.

I find her in the kitchen, chatting with a chef. A raging jealousy consumes me. Never before have I felt a fire burn so strong inside me. I hate the chef for talking to her. I hate him for being near her. I hate him for looking at her.

He's telling her something, something that's apparently so interesting that she didn't even notice me. She listens intently, a range of emotions flickering across her face.

What are they doing? What are they talking about? Why is he in the way?

I hate him.

So I do the obvious. I grab a large knife from a cabinet and stab the bastard in the throat. Blood gushes out and he slumps onto the floor, choking and gasping. He coughs out some more blood and dies, eyes glassy.

Now he will never talk to her again.

I toss the blooded knife onto the floor. It falls with a clatter. Satisfaction runs through me. I did it. I got rid of an obstacle in our relationship. I smile.

But this makes her scream. Her mouth opens and she belts out a high-pitched wailing noise that pierces my eardrums. I love the sound. It's what I desperately craved for earlier. I want to make her scream more.

She runs away. So this is what it takes to make her scream and run.

No. I was going to do something with her. I went to her because I was bored. How dare she run away? Is she rejecting my love for her? No.

I run after her and seize her wrist. She's crying and screaming, trying to get away from me. I greatly enjoy it, but this was not a part of my plan.

Every shrill scream sends sparks of pleasure through me and every tear awakens the beast inside me. It's ridiculously pleasing. But I need to continue with my plans.

Relishing in the glorious sound of her screaming for a bit more, I cut my own pleasure short. Now was not the time. I deliver a sharp uppercut to her stomach and she falls unconscious. So weak. So easily harmed. So much fun.

I take her limp body into my limousine and order the chauffer to take us to the largest flower field in the area. He takes us to one filled with miles of soft yellow flowers.

I deposit her there and shake her until she wakes up. She wildly glances around and sits up in fright. Then she notices her surroundings.

Tears well in her eyes.

"Why am I here?" She whispers.

"You like flowers." I bluntly state. Isn't it obvious?

She stands up and walks through the field. A faint smile begins to form. We walk farther until patches of yellow and green surround us from all directions. By now the limo is only a black smudge in the distance.

I watch her in satisfaction. But then she starts picking flowers and frolicking in them. Smelling them. Enjoying them. I don't understand. What is she doing? They're just flowers. Weak, useless little life forms that are easily trampled.

Then I start to get angry. She should be hugging, thanking, caressing me. Me. Not those pathetic flowers. I brought her here. She should be grateful. She should jump at my kindness. Why is she not paying any attention to me after what I did for her?

My eye twitches. I stomp on a flower. Then two. Then ten. But there are too many flowers.

Burn. I'll burn the whole field.

A tiny boy walks through the field holding his father's hand. He's smiling ear to ear. Then he breaks free and starts running through the field while the father watches with an endearing look on his face. The air the light and sunny and happy.

The boy giggles and plays. He spends hours there while the father just sits and watches. The love between them is clear.

The memory disrupts my mind and I fall to my knees. Tears involuntarily stream down my face. I don't know what's going on. I can't control them. They turn into sobs.

I'm trembling and sniveling like a baby. I can't stop. It's horrible and weak and pathetic, just like the flowers.

She notices. She's walking towards me. What is she doing? Is she going to think I'm weak? She's going to leave me. No. This is wrong. I never should have come here. I want to turn back time.

A soft, warm touch on my head jolts my thoughts. I slowly look up and see her hand just barely grazing my hair. She has a concerned look on her face.

Relief floods through me. I keep crying and she just stands there, stroking my head. It's a wondrous feeling. So soothing.

The ride back home is silent. But this time I'm the uncomfortable one. She saw a weak side of me. Her opinion of me must be lowered. Yet she looks calmer than before.

What is going on?


	5. Government Intervention

A/N: Sorry for the long wait!

* * *

><p>It was just a quiet day. I drank coffee, re-read some old books, sketched some drawings of her, and sharpened my knives. Just a regular morning.<p>

That was, until the loud sirens pierced my ears.

Obnoxiously bright lights flashed through the air and a couple imbecilic policemen barged into my lawn. How annoying.

"Come out with your hands in the air! Bring the hostage with you!" They shouted.

Hostage? I much prefer forcibly invited guest.

Still, I strolled out of my house to greet them. The girl rushed out, relief written on every part of her body. Not so fast.I grabbed her wrist and pulled her small body against mine.

"Where do you think you're going?" I whisper in her ear.

"The police are here. Just let me go already." She says. But what kind of person gives up without a fight?

I walk her out the door like a true gentleman, making sure to keep her pressed to my chest.

The policemen have their guns out, all aimed at my head. "Let go of the girl!" They shout.

Reluctantly, I release my grip on her and settle for holding her wrist with my hand. I shoot venomous looks at the police and they actually hesitate for just one small moment. The tension builds in the air.

Stalemate.

They aren't willing to shoot and I'm not willing to let go. Maybe I should send my servants after them. My mansion has a far superior arsenal and my staff could easily take on a few armed men. With a fair bit of bloodshed and sacrifice, that is.

But where would the bodies go? And the police would surely send in reinforcements.

Then my thoughts are broken by an unwanted intruder.

A boy with hideous blue hair leaps out of the police car and dashes over to us. He seems familiar. Wasn't he one of her stupid little friends?

"Rin! Thank goodness you're okay!" He shouts and clasps her hands.

Before I can even react, she breaks free from my clutch and runs into his arms. They embrace like old friends as she buries her head in his shoulder. But the way the boy looks at her, with the faintest tinge of rouge on his cheeks.

My eye twitches. White hot rage bubbles and stirs in my chest.

"Get away from her!" I yell.

He glares at me. "I should say that to you, you freak." His arms tighten around her and he shifts their bodies slightly, as if to shield her from me.

Rin pulls away her head to look him in the eyes.

"Where's Rinto-nii?" She asks.

The boy is visibly shaken. "I'm sorry, Rin. The day you were kidnapped…there was an accident while he was on his way to pick you up from school. You just missed him."

Her petite body stiffens with disbelief. Her knees give out and in an instant, she's collapsed onto the ground. He holds her gently, but firmly.

As the police hand-cuff me and lead me into their filthy car, I hear sobs resounding in the air. Not cries of fear or despair, but true pain. Something flickers in me.

I feel…sad. For someone else. It's an emotion I haven't felt in years.

I ponder this as I am taken away.

* * *

><p>My court date is tomorrow. The charges are kidnapping, harassment, and sexual assault. Ridiculous.<p>

I only passionately showed my love for her.

But all judges can be bribed in this corrupt world. I walk away scot-free.

The boy is furious. Her stupid little friends with weird hair also come to the courtroom. They stare at me with attempted menace on their pathetic faces.

As I leave the building, I overhear parts of their conversation.

"…a guy like that should be put in jail."

"…psychopath…"

"Are you sure you don't want to appeal this case?"

"You can live with Miku and I."

That part catches my attention. I duck behind a stone pillar and listen in.

"I really appreciate it, but I've been too much of a burden on you guys." Rin murmurs.

"Of course not! You're my best friend, Rin. Please accept our offer." A girl with long pigtails pleads.

"Yeah, there's no way we're going to let you go to some group home or orphanage." That boy argues.

Are they siblings? They both share that putrid blue hair.

"I'm going to try to become an emancipated minor. Rinto-nii and I have some money saved up." She firmly states.

"But you still need a place to live! You can't possibly try to live on your own while going to school." A tall girl with long pink hair says.

"I'll be fine, guys." Rin hugs them with a trembling smile and walks away with her head up, though I can see tears glistening in her eyes.

I stealthily follow her outside the building. So it's a place to stay that she needs?

At some point, she stops walking and turns around.

"I know you're there, Len." She calls out.

I grin and slip out of the shadows. "Then I assume you also know that I heard your little conversation. Aren't you quite the heroine?"

"Look, I really do need somewhere to go…" She begins.

"Say no more. I will gladly be of service to you, my princess." I grasp her hand and bring it up to my lips. These cheesy things work well in books.

"Just don't tell my friends! And one condition, don't hurt or-or stalk or rape me!" She says.

The corner of my lip quirks up. "Promise."

The two of us silently get into my limo and drive off. Ironically, into the sunset.

I stroke the pocket knife in my jacket. Freshly sharpened. I savor the thought of ramming it into the stomachs and throats of each and every one of her friends. Especially that blue-haired boy. I want more than anything to gouge out his eyes.

I promised not to harm her. I didn't say anything about the others.

Once we get home, I help her out of the car and go about my day normally. As I relax in my study, numerous plots and schemes run through my head.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I manage to get up early and get dressed. I had a long day ahead of me.<p>

Her eyes widen as I saunter into the dining room.

"Why are you wearing my school's uniform?" She stammers.

In a heartbeat, I lean in only a centimeter away from her.

"Why do you think?"


	6. High School

"You're seriously coming to school with me?" Rin asked, still incredulous.

"Of course. I need to keep an eye on my lover at all times." I reply.

An expression mingled with protest and discontent spreads across her face. It's her fault for wanting to continue high school, despite my offer of a personal tutor. Stupid, annoyingly cute girl.

Unfortunately, her dumb friends are at the gate waiting for her. Their eyes narrow at the sight of me and immediately, whispers start flying between their spit-filled mouths and unwashed ears. I'll have to make sure to slice off those ignorant lips before driving my knife through their ribs.

Class 2-A? So Rin is a good student. Luckily for me, her friends aren't. Other than the girl with fish hair, it's just me and my doll in the back row. There was a nerdy boy in the seat next to her. Not anymore. Now it's mine.

The teacher is a young man with light brown hair and glasses. He couldn't be over thirty. His good looks are suspicious. If he gets between Rin and I…

"Good morning, class! Today we have a new student. Please welcome Kagamine Len." He pleasantly drawls in a light voice.

I get out of my seat and saunter over to the front. In an instant, everyone's eyes are on me and I can already hear squeals coming from the girls. The female students ogle me with lovesick faces while the males are already judging with both jealousy and admiration. Figures. As if I give a crap about those shallow masses.

"Just stay out of my way and I won't bother you." I truthfully mutter to the class.

More squeals. Great. I place my hand in my pocket and grip the cold steel of my switchblade. The small but deadly weapon fits perfectly in my palm and I ache to use it.

I do a quick scan of the room. Plenty of desks and cabinets, large enough to fit a person in. The students are coarse and rowdy. True peasants in the presence of my delicate princess. So far, they do not pose any sort of threat other than pungent body odor.

Without another word, I sit back down. The lecture is boring and tedious. I've already learned everything the teacher drones on about years ago. Public education is always dragged down by the stupid.

Still, it gives me an entire hour to observe her without notice. The sunlight streams in and illuminates her flaxen hair, giving it the appearance of a halo. My heartbeat quickens at the sight of it, despite my hatred of the sun, as if it's mutinying. She pays rapt attention and takes neat notes, her crystal clear eyes fixated on the teacher.

Aren't you paying a bit too much attention to that man?

Instantly, the teacher lands a spot on my victim list.

Perhaps the only thing good about schools are their uniforms. The girly sailor suit exposes her bare arms, legs, and neck. I long to reach out and stroke the creamy skin enveloping her thin bones. Some parts are almost translucent, revealing pale blue veins underneath a layer of white coating.

Everything about her was petite. From her frame to her personality, I found myself comparing her to a small rabbit. The big, childish bow she wore on her head only extenuated the resemblance.

Now would be a good time to sketch her. But as I reach for a pencil, the bell rings and I am forced to follow her out the door.

Leaning against the wall, I stop her with my arm. "What's next on the schedule?"

Her small hand pushes away my forearm with minimal force. "Lunch."

Already? That period passed by much quicker than I thought. Does this school not have separate teachers for each class? Well that saves time for the students.

Her friends happily greet her at their lunch table and sit down. They stiffen upon seeing me and some of them stand up when I go to sit by her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Exclaims a well-built boy with long purple hair, a bit like a girl.

"This hardly concerns you, inferiors. I am here for Rin only." I bluntly state.

This seems to anger them. The frustrating bluenette siblings face me head on with identical glares.

"You're just some crazy psycho who should be locked up in an asylum! Leave Rin alone!" The pigtails screech.

"I-It's fine, Miku. Just…as long as he doesn't bother us. Don't anger him." Rin warns. Smart girl.

"No way in hell! I'M queen bee around here and you will do as I say in MY school! Leave!" Miku's voice escalates and some heads turn.

Annoyance flickers in me and my fists tighten. Who does this bitch think she is?

"What are you waiting for?! Go!" She screams.

Miku raises a hand to hit me and I catch it with ease. What dumb, delusional trash. Her voice gets on my every nerve. Rough, shrill, and dripping with false sweetness.

She yanks her hand away from my grip and starts to get into an aggressive stance. Idiot.

Suddenly I copy exactly what Rin inflicted upon me during our first meeting. I slap the imbecile hard across the cheekbone. She stumbles back and clasps her hands over the reddening spot, tears of pain welling in her eyes.

Now the whole school is watching.

"Len!" Cries Rin. Her words barely resonate in my head and I ignore her.

"Hey! That's my little sister, you insane bastard!" The boy yells.

He grabs me by the collar and sends a hard punch straight to my face. Blood spurts out of my nose and I glower at him, eyes flashing.

In an instant, I pull the knife out from my pocket and aim for his gut. Raising the blade to gain momentum, the boy has only a second to register his terror before I stab him.

My knife stops a millimeter from his side when a pair of thin arms wrap around my upper body, yanking me back just with enough force to keep me from making a kill.

Rin fiercely tackles me from behind, holding onto me with all her strength to keep me from lashing out. I breathe heavily with adrenaline and rage, but calm just the tiniest at her touch.

"Get away from my friends, Len!" She cries with a muffled voice.

Teachers are running towards us. I quickly snap my knife shut and jam it into my pocket. Grabbing her wrist, I make a run for it while dragging her with me.

She shrieks and tries to squirm away but I hold her firmly as we sprint.

"Shut up or I'll take you with more force!" I yell.

I yank open to door to the nearest room, which happens to be the janitor's closet, and shove us both in. The janitor is actually still in there, startled out of his mind when we barge in.

I pull a hundred dollar bill from my shirt pocket and fling it at the man. "Go."

He readily takes the money and scampers away, chuckling to himself and muttering "Kids these days." as he leaves.

I lean heavily against the wall to catch my breath and take a moment to appreciate the close proximity between us.

Then she scowls at me. "How could you attack my friends like that?!"

"Are you surprised?" I wryly respond.

"Well…I-I not exactly. But don't you dare do anything like that again! I swear to god, I'm going to report you to the police!" She exclaims.

Despite the magnitude of her anger, I can only find her amusing and cute.

"Whatever." As if I'd stop.

She glares a bit longer before her angry eyes start to melt with tears. Slowly, she sinks to her knees and tries to stop her sobs with no avail. Her hiccups and sniffles fill the quiet room and I watch her with interest.

"You're-you're just…Do you even know how horrible my life is thanks to you? You stalk me and torture me, now you're even targeting my best friends. And-and I'm practically stuck with you because you magically have all this power just because you're rich and it's not fair! Rinto-nii…I missed seeing Rinto-nii for the last time because of you!" She stops a moment to suck in air.

"It's all your fault! I hate you so much! Why can't you just leave me alone?!" She weeps.

Now that's not any way to speak to your love. But still, her words ring in my ears. Let her cry and protest all she wants. Rin is but a mere doll of my affections. In the end, I am still her master.

"L-Look…" She starts again, but with a different tone. "I know you're messed up with like, you're childhood and stuff…And I guess I don't blame you entirely, but please leave me out of your life. Get help or something."

"What do you know about me?" I cautiously ask. My breathe hitches and I panic just the slightest. Is this what she was talking about with my late-chef? What does she know?

"Only…that you had a crappy dad and your mom is dead. Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that harshly." She seems a bit taken aback by her own apology.

"No…euphemizing things is a way of fleeing from the truth. It is no way to live." I murmur.

After a minute or two, her sobs begin to dwindle and she rests against the wall, exhausted. Her puffy, red eyes still manage to sparkle with beauty and innocence.

I take advantage of the tight space and move forward. With my knees on either side of her waist, I close the gap between us and place my hands by her head on the wall.

"You know, I really do love you." I whisper.

A droplet of blood trickles from my bruised nose and drips onto her white shirt, splattering it with ruby red liquid.

"Then let me go." She pleads.


	7. Who Do You Love? Part I

"Then let me go." Rin pleaded, eyes big and watery.

Let her…go?

That's ridiculous. She's my doll. My toy. Mine. How on earth could I part with my brand-new puppet? I want to keep her for eternity, whether it's in my arms or locked in my room. She will always be mine to torment and love.

The solution is obvious. If I cut off her legs, she will be unable to run from me. I'll hang up those pretty white legs in my room to keep with me. The two of us shall become inseparable. How about I tear into that perfect spine of hers and paralyze her? I will do it with a sharp little dagger as cute as her.

In one, swift movement, her body shall become limp forever. Just like a doll. She will stay with me forever.

"Please." She whispers.

Her broken, pitiful voice slices through the roaring silence.

Am I hurting her? Good.

Am I hurting her heart? It belongs to me.

We love each other, end of story. Unless…

Pain ebbs its way into my chest. She wants to stay away from me.

What's this?

Am I caring about her?

Without a single word, I lean in and softly kiss her lips. They taste like tears and…oranges. That's right, she was having lunch.

I avoid even the slightest noise as I get up and exit the room. She watches me motionless, with an unreadable face.

* * *

><p>"I love you, Len-kun." The woman whispers.<p>

She gives a small squeeze to the young boy sitting in her lap. He stretches his chubby cheeks into a wide grin and rubs his hand against her.

"Love you too!" He chirps.

The woman smiles and lets a tear escape from her eye.

"Mommy? Why are you crying?" He asks.

Silently, she shifts him off of his lap and walks in front of him. Crouching down, the woman tenderly kisses his forehead.

More tears cascade down her pale face as she turns around and walks away.

"Mommy?" The boy cries again. She doesn't turn back.

Suddenly scared, he gets up and toddles after her on his short legs. Unable to catch up with her quick strides, he begins to run.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabs his shoulder and gently pulls him back. The boy struggles against the person and starts to cry.

"Mommy don't go!" He wails.

After the woman disappears from sight, the boy buries his face in the person's shirt and holds on tightly. The person stands just a few inches taller than him, but holds him endearingly.

I have such bad track records with women. Three have left me so far. Who's next?

I laugh bitterly. Such clichés. Is my life some melodramatic novel written by an emotional teenager?

Sighing, I sink down into an armchair. I don't feel like reading today, perhaps it is the weather. The bookshelves appear to tower much taller than they actually are, spiraling around me and drowning me in a sea of literature.

The school principal, is nothing but a figurehead. Easily bribed and manipulated to my desires. Those bratty blue siblings are now suspended for two days for provocation and misconduct in the school environment. They must be livid.

How I hate those twins. Miku and Mikuo. The most imbecilic names I have ever heard, perfect for those two duds.

She likes them. A bit too much, if you ask me. Especially the boy, Mikuo. Highly suspicious.

The person she loves is me. Right?

Right?

She's wavering. Because of Mikuo. All because of Hatsune Mikuo.

I hate him!

Uncontrollable rage rattles me to my bones and I leap up. In a flash, I shove everything on my desk onto the floor. Papers, pencils, lamps, and books fly everywhere and land on the floor.

Those…bastards!

I grab a random book from my pile and angrily pitch them at the wall. And another. And another. Until the entire stack has been demolished.

But that is not enough to satisfy my ire.

I glance at the floor and notice the switchblade I had used in school yesterday. It lies right by my foot, as if tempting me and mocking me of that fateful day.

Slowly, I bend down to pick it up and a devilish smile creeps its way onto my face. The putrid twins must be enjoying their day off. Wonder what they are up to?

Perhaps I ought to pay them a visit.

* * *

><p>The Hatsunes live in a lovely brick house in a lovely neighborhood. Spring onions grow in a neat little garden in the yard.<p>

It's 10:30am. Anyone other than them should be at work or school. That means the twins are alone. Excellent.

Stroking the blade hidden in my sleeve, I stroll up to the front door and ring the doorbell. A pair of stupidly childish blue pigtails greets me.

"What do you want?" Miku asks in her annoying falsetto wail.

Trying to hide my pounding heart, I smile politely.

"May I have a chat with you and your brother?" I inquire.

She rolls her eyes and curls up her top lip in scorn, but steps aside to let me in. The naïve idiot.

Mikuo growls when he sees me and dashes over. He wears a sleeveless shirt that exposes his finely sculpted muscles. Does Rin find this attractive? I will have to carve them out.

"What the HELL is he doing here?!" He shouts.

"Just to have a word with you two." I attempt to keep my voice reasonably level.

The cold steel presses against my flesh and I itch to whip it out. My fingers twitch in anticipation of slicing through flesh.

"Then talk. What do you want?" Mikuo gripes.

"It would be in your best interest to stay out of the way when it comes to Rin and me." I calmly state.

This seems to ire them. Miku only scoffs, whipping back her long hair and preparing to stand her ground while her brother flushes scarlet in anger and curls up his hands into fists.

"Excuse you! Look you crazy midget, get out of Rin's life and ours! No one wants you here! Take your psychotic ass back to the facility for the really mentally disturbed and leave us alone!" Miku screeches, shoving her make-up plastered face hardly an inch away from mine.

What a bitch. The world would truly be a better place without her.

I lower my arm, allowing my knife to slide out of my sleeve and perfectly into my palm. A devious grin stretches onto my face as I look up to her.

Miku has barely a second to react before my knife slices into her thorax. She chokes and splutters as blood gushes out from her throat and collapses onto the ground, attempting to scream but only pushing out more blood.

"MIKU! YOU LITTLE JACKASS!" Mikuo bellows.

He sprints to the kitchen and grabs both a large knife and a thick stack of napkins. He first rushes over to Miku and attempts to stop the bleeding.

When he fails miserably, he makes a wild dash for the home phone hanging in the hallway.

I've had quite enough of authority getting in my way. Calling the police is not an option at this moment.

Stealthily, I creep right behind him without notice. As he reaches to pick up the device, I ram my bloodied blade through his side.

"Wrong move." I mutter.

Unfortunately, he sees me in the corner of his eyes and jerks to the side just in time. My knife only manages to graze him.

Mikuo grips his own kitchen knife and charges at me with determination in his eyes. The foolish boy. He cannot even compare to my experience in hand-to-hand. Does he think he isn't the first victim to ever fight back?

Still, he has considerable strength, probably from some horrendous sports team. Mikuo manages to disarm both of us and slams me against the wall.

We struggle against each other, like two alpha males thrown in the same room. Oh wait, we are two alpha males in the same room. Except I'm better.

In one, unpredictable move, I suddenly swivel my body around and shove us both to the right. With careful precision, I shift on top of him and slam his head hard against the granite countertop. Just an inch off, and we both would have cracked our necks on that thing.

With a delightfully pleasing crack, he slumps onto the ground.

Now it's time to make my escape.

I go over to an area near the dining room and find a room filled with expensive liquor. I grab a bottle of vodka and walk back to the twins.

First, I open up their mouths and dribble some in. I then pour just a bit around the place so that it reeks of alcohol.

Preparation is key to any plan. I take out a syringe and a bag of drugs out from my jacket.

Using the syringe, I inject more vodka into their system mixed with cocaine so that any sort of medical test will reveal that they were using. Then, I place the bag of weed and the bottle of vodka open on the floor.

Lighting a match, I let a bit of the marijuana burn and create smoke in the air. Enough to detect as you enter the house.

Now any argument or case they try to make will be rendered half useless due to the "intoxicated" state they were found to be in.

But I also need to seal the other half.

Carefully, I create and elaborate set up with the knives in their kitchen along with some rearranged furniture and food.

To any crime investigator with a good eye, it will seem as though the twins decided to get drunk and get high while home alone. Poor Miku then decided to cook, clumsily chopping up vegetables and pouring water into a pot to boil.

She then slipped on some spilled liquor and accidently grazed Mikuo in the side. Not completely noticing in his half-conscious state, Mikuo saw the knife in her hand and had the brilliant idea of playing darts with the kitchen knives.

He actually managed to land one on the board, though the other knives of various varieties landed somewhere in the general direction.

One, however, he accidently threw at Miku as she was staggering around and bend down to grab some fallen leeks. It struck her neck and she promptly collapsed.

Mikuo attempted to go to her, but half slipped and half fell over. Right onto the counter as he hit his head.

The recent suspension from school will only make the case more believable. A foolproof scenario. Well not completely, but if the police begin asking too many questions I shall have to make another trip down to Judge Marlon's office with a stack of bills in my hand.

Mere childsplay. I've done worse.

* * *

><p>I head home and am elated to see Rin arrive in a limousine back from school. She sighs and mutters to herself as she enters the mansion.<p>

I quietly follow her in and wait behind her for a little while. As usual, her perky senses detect me and she turns around.

"Look, Len. I'm not staying here. I came to-" She begins to speak, but stops dead when she sees me. Her pupils dilate to pinpoints and the color drains from her face.

I suppose I may have a couple blood stains all over my body.

"What happened?!" She shrieks, running over.

It's so nice to see my lover playing the part and being concerned with my whereabouts.

"Oh I just had a little rendezvous with some acquaintances. Nothing to worry about." I cheerily reply.

My mood has been elevated significantly, because I just cannot stop smiling. This happiness, this thrill, it comes only with bloodshed.

"But-but…" She stammers.

Walking closer, I pat my pet on the head and flash a wink.

"Now go and get ready, my lover. I shall be holding a ball tonight and you are the guest of honor. My servants will bring you a lovely dress and help you prepare." I cut in.

I am ecstatic. On a whim, I decided it was the perfect night for a dance with my beloved.


	8. Who Do You Love? Part II

At approximately 8:02pm, she comes down the staircase.

Dressed in a soft, orange backless dress she gracefully floats into the empty ballroom. Her baby-smooth skin and slender legs are exposed to an arousing degree. Mild make-up that brings out her oceanic eyes and succulent lips adorns her snow white face. Her hair is done rather simply, but shimmers under the light of the chandelier like the sun itself.

Her beauty is simply astonishing to say the least.

Rather cautiously, she walks to my side and watches me warily. She takes note of my orange tie, which corresponds perfectly to her dress. I can see her suck in air and turn a slight shade of pink in her cheeks. I smirk.

I can't say I'm surprised by her intrigue in me. In a crisp white dress shirt, dark vest, orange tie and black dress pants, the sharp accents of my lean body are embellished. My hair is nicely brushed and pulled back in a neat ponytail, framing my freshly cleaned and blood-free face.

"Where is everyone?" She inquires.

I procure a ruby red rose from my pocket and slip it in her hair.

"Everyone I invited are already here, and standing before me." I quip.

"O-Oh…" She breathes.

Bowing forward slightly like a true gentleman, I modestly extend a hand to her.

"May I have this dance?"

Hesitating barely a moment, she reaches out and takes my hand.

In one swift movement, I pull her to my chest and hold her waist with my free hand. She's surprised, my gently rests her hand on my shoulder.

Slow, classical music drifts through the air and we commence an elegant waltz. Taking my lead, we dance across the polished wooden floor.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" She softly asks.

"My…sister taught me a while ago." I answer after a brief pause.

"You have a sister?" She probes.

I remain silent.

As the night goes on, the violin music and our light footsteps are all that can be heard throughout the house.

Her body melts perfectly into mine, as if she were built to nestle in my arms. I will never give her up, not to anyone. Especially Mikuo.

Speaking of, those twins are probably in the hospital at this moment. Or maybe rehab. Or intense psychological counseling. Who knows? As long as they are away from us.

An hour passes by without notice, then two. But as the clock ticks to 11, she tires and gradually breaks off.

As the night draws to a close, I pull her close one last time.

"Who is it that you love?" I cryptically whisper in her ear.

She uncomfortably stutters and glances in a multitude of directions.

"Me, right?" I question.

Without waiting for an answer, I stroke her cheek and retreat from the ballroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of her fingering the flower in her hair and wildly blushing. I smile.

* * *

><p>"<em>They cannot scare me with their empty spaces<br>Between stars—on stars where no human race is.  
>I have it in me so much nearer home<br>To scare myself with my own desert places." _

Robert Frost. I particularly enjoy this poem, so much…empathy. Books nowadays are nothing but hormone-driven, shallow pieces of trash. I personally want to slaughter whoever wrote that sparkly vampire garbage.

But this girl, she is unbelievably imprudent in her tastes. The crazy electro-pop music I found in her phone, filthy teenage romance novels in her bag, pop culture referencing clothes, and those idiotic television programs. You'd think she would adapt to her new environment better.

Then it crosses my mind that perhaps I ought to try some of the things she likes. Find some common ground. Make sure there aren't any people she thinks about other than me.

I stroll through the house looking for her, and catch her slipping out of the back door.

"Where are you going?" I demand.

She stiffens at my voice. "I'm going to visit Miku."

Annoyance and horror flickers through me.

"That's not a good idea." I warn.

A shadow of suspicion falls on her face. "Why?"

"There's no need. You have me. You don't need anyone else." I respond.

"She's my friend, Len. You can't just coop me up in your house." She argues, frustration seeping into her tone.

"On the contrary." I say.

With a wave of my hand, guards block every exit from the house in a heartbeat. She splutters and protests as I lead her back inside.

Flushed with anger, she scrunches up her face in the most adorable way possible.

"Len!" She whines.

Chuckling at her simplicity, I pat her on the head.

She trudges off to the parlor, most likely to watch more of her idiotic television shows. But this time, I follow her.

I plop down on the couch right next to her, and gingerly turn to look at the screen. She scoots an inch away from me and turns on a fantasy romance show.

It's about a pair of vampire brothers fighting over a girl. Constant, irresponsible sex and drinking all over the place. Plots holes and people brooding around. What is this crap that's filling up her innocent mind?

She watches with far more attention than she pays in class, as if she is analyzing a complex algorithm. Her eyes are practically glued to the screen.

But if it's vampires she likes, then I shall have to indulge her a bit.

My eyes drift to her pale neck, and the veins pulsating beneath the thin skin. I lick my teeth, as though I were one of those creatures myself.

Grabbing her shoulders, I look down into her eyes. She gasps and reels back in fear. My predatory instincts burn up with desire and I flash her a crooked smile.

I start small, planting soft kisses along the sharp edge of her collarbone. Then I start sucking and nipping at the soft skin.

She tenses and squirms in my grasp.

"L-Len. You promised…not to do this." She protests.

"I'm not physically harming you. It's not considered rape if both people want it, given that we're both minors." I murmur. "Tell me you want it."

"N-No…" She chokes out, but with enough uncertainty in her voice that I don't stop.

"What you say is irrelevant. I can see your desire in those tomato cheeks." I half-joke.

She quickly clasps her hands over her cheeks, looking almost embarrassed.

"Let me go! I just want to see Mikuo-" She suddenly stops and corrects herself. "I-I mean Miku."

My brow furrows in annoyance. Just how long will this girl keep me waiting? And why is she running to that cocky, blue-haired brat?

"Never mention his name around me. I'll get jealous." I snap.

She quickly quiets and pulls away from me, staring at the carpet. Her soft hair falls forward, partially covering her still bright red face.

I smirk.

"I'll be in the sunroom. Come and see me once you stop blushing." I remark, and promptly leave.

* * *

><p>Pawn to D6.<p>

Bishop to G3.

Knight to H5.

I pick up the white knight and move it across the chessboard. It advances toward the black king. Too bad it has too many pawns lined up to protect itself.

As I ponder my next move, a ray of light flashes into my eye and blinds me. Those block-headed servants.

I go over to the giant French windows and harshly yank the thick curtains over them. Darkness consumes the room and I light a few lamps to see.

She comes into the room after about an hour, as I am finishing up my chess game. She glances around the room, pausing at the sight of the grand piano.

"You play piano?" She asks.

I nod.

"That is so cliché. Of course you would." She mutters.

I quirk up my brow and saunter over to her.

"That's right, clichéd. I'm rich…mysterious…cold…possessive…powerful…musically talented…" I lean in close and say "…and unbearably good-looking."

She turns pink and swiftly walks around me. "Don't get a big head." She says under her breath.

I chuckle and she turns even pinker realizing that I heard her.

"Want to hear me play?" I inquire.

She lets down her guard for just a second and childishly nods.

I sit down on the cushioned bench and rest my fingers onto the smooth keys. Immediately, a melody comes to mind and I begin to play.

Within a couple of seconds, she starts to giggle. I curiously look up at her and she slaps her hand over her mouth, containing it.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Sorry…It's just…well…you're horrible." She cautiously lets out.

I balk. Horrible? Well I admit I don't practice nearly as much as I should, but horrible? How rude and saucy of her. I suppose I'm finding more layers to her personality.

"Look, the song is a lot easier than most people think. I'll show you." She shyly offers, and sits down beside me.

Her slender fingers gracefully dance across the keys and pluck out a tune far more beautiful than I had imagined. It sounds like…something familiar.

"So that's how you play it? I've spent an eternity trying to think of what the notes are." I confess.

"Think of? Just get the sheet music. This song is so popular." She says.

"Is it? I don't use electronics much…or go out." I admit.

She looks as though she wants to say something, but her line of sight shifts.

"There are a lot of instruments here. Do you play them all?" She asks, impressed.

"Well, technically. But not as perfectly as your romantic fantasy novels describe."

She gasps. "Did you…go through my stuff?" She exclaims, more self-conscious than surprised.

"There is only one that I can accurately say I've mastered. And yes, I did. Nice panties, by the way." I say.

She squeaks in embarrassment and playfully punches my shoulder. The light touch shocks me, but I lightly smile and shake away the odd feelings growing inside of me.

Without waiting, I go to the back of the room and take out my treasured bass guitar. The instrument molds perfectly to my touch and already, I hold it as if I were to play it.

"A bass? Seriously? That is so not your style." She exclaims in astonishment.

"And what is my style?" I ask, amused.

"I don't know, violin or piano or something else classical and elegant. Or...maybe even harpsichord? Cello?" She stammers.

"Do you think this is a 19th century vampire romance novel? I'm not holed up in another century, nor am I some childhood prodigy. I like the bass." I scoff.

Apparently this is some sort of revelation, because she blankly stares in disbelief.

I calmly strum a more modernized, fast-paced tune and she watches in silence. After a while, she snaps out of her daze.

"You know, you're actually pretty cool-looking when you play that." She muses.

My eyes widen and I suck in a breath of air, but continue playing. For that one moment, the two of us look almost like a normal couple.


	9. Holiday Bonus Chapter

A/N: Happy holidays! An extra-long chapter, my gift to you all this Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>Christmas Special<strong>

"Len, Len, wake up! Wake up!" A petite girl with long blonde hair whispered as she hopped onto the bed.

She shook the child sleeping in it, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"What?" The child croaked in his sleepiness.

"It's exactly midnight! Let's go downstairs." She urged.

"Really?!" The child exclaimed. He sat up at once and followed the girl out of his room.

Giggling and shushing each other, they tip-toed across the wide hall way and bounded down the stairs. The warm fragrance of nutmeg and freshly baked cookies welcomed them into the heavily decorated living room, complete with a towering pine tree covered top to bottom in ornaments. New, unopened presents sat at the base of the tree, practically begging to be opened.

"Shouldn't we wait for mommy?" The child worriedly asked.

"Don't worry, she's probably already up." The girl reassured.

"Which one do you wanna open?" The child asked.

"Hmm…maybe the big one. Or the weirdly-shaped one, I wonder what that is." She mused.

Right before their small feet reached the last step, a crash snapped them from their dream-like spree. Sensing trouble, the girl quickly dashed back up the stairs, pulling the child with her against the wall.

"Not today, please. The kids will be up any minute!" A woman's voice rang out sharply against the almost stuffy room.

"You think I wouldn't notice the pills you slipped into my food?!" A rough voice bellowed.

Muffled sounds and screams erupted from the dining room and another loud crash followed. But what was most frightening was the unearthly silence that came after.

The child could feel his sister tensing next to him. She suddenly pulled him up and faced him with wavering eyes.

"Run to your room, now." She ordered.

"Aren't you gonna come?" The child asked.

"Later. Just go, now!" The girl shrieked. Frightened, the child turned on his heel and dashed off into the bedroom.

Feeling uncomfortable, the child pressed his ear to the door and tried to make out any noises. It was quiet for a moment, until a high-pitched squeal pierced his ears.

The scream was like a mouse, but filled with pain.

The child heard loud footsteps coming near his room and nearly cried in terror. The footsteps stopped for just a moment outside his door, then continued on. After a few seconds, a door slammed.

Relieved that the man was gone, the child crept out and went back down to the living room. To his horror, the girl was sprawled at the bottom of the steps. She was unconscious, and blood trickled from her small mouth.

"Are you okay?!" The child ran to her, sobbing and hugging the body.

Coughing, the girl slowly opened her eyes and gave a weak smile. "I'm okay. Go back to your room."

Not listening, the child rambled on "Where's mommy? What did he do to you? What happened? Are…are we gonna open our presents?" The child feebly choked.

The girl sat up, wincing. She patted the child on his head and gave him a gentle hug.

"Sorry, Len. Christmas is over a little early this year."

* * *

><p>An annoying, overly-cheerful song weaseled its way into the radio like a cockroach emerging from a crack in the wall and I groaned. Was it December already?<p>

I hate this time of year. I think I bought this mansion just to be away from those nothing-better-to-do carolers and those bell-ringing Salvation Army people groveling for money. Ridiculous peasants ruining on otherwise, perfectly good month.

The house is dark, cold, and bears no trace of the holidays whatsoever. It rivals the home of Ebenezer Scrooge in terms of chilliness.

Some of the servants attempted to decorate the house and be cheery a couple of years ago. After what I did to them, that certainly won't be happening again anytime soon.

_Ding Dong!_

The doorbell rings for the first time in years. Who on earth could possibly be coming to my isolated mansion?

Curious, I stride out of the study and downstairs. To my surprise, she has already beaten me there.

She smiles and greets the delivery man, signing a piece of paper. That smile…I haven't seen it in a while. Why did she have to smile at another man? Those lips belong me alone.

Before I can ponder over which weapon to stab the man with, she skips away with a large box in her hands, happiness painting her face. What did she order? And what was she thinking?

"Rin!" I shout.

She freezes and nervously looks up at me. "What is it?"

"Don't you dare order things online anymore; it gives away my address to people." I snap.

"Well what was I supposed to do? You practically put the house on lock-down so I can't leave." She retorts.

Suddenly a thought pops into my head and I glide across the room to meet her. "How did you even order? There's no signal or Wi-Fi here."

She pales and squirms, clearly thinking of what to say. After a moment's hesitation, she confesses "I…might have installed a router…"

"What?! When?!" I demand. Now my house can be tracked from anywhere in the world.

"Um…like…a week ago? Sorry." She offers.

I loudly exhale and run my fingers through my hair. I'll have to get rid of it. "Where is it?"

"My room." She peeps in a small voice.

I follow her back up the stairs and all the way across the house, where her room lies. She grudgingly pushes open the door and lets me in. The small black router sits in the corner of the room amid a tangle of wires.

Exasperated by her reliance on electronics, I walk over and begin dismantling it. She watches with disappointment and dismay on her face, but is too scared to resist. Instead, she opens up the box and begins pulling out decoration after decoration.

By the time I manage to pull out all the wires and toss the object out of the window, she's transformed the plain room into a catastrophic wonderland. Garlands, candy canes, snowflakes, snowmen, and stockings smother the room with unnatural amounts of glitter.

It looks as though Christmas itself had come and violently vomited all over the place, then thrown a miniature tornado into it for good measure.

She appears pleased with herself and beams. The childish glee written over her features are rather cute, but my tradition of ignoring the holidays has sadly come to an end.

"It looks so much more fun and festive now, huh?" She exults.

I roll my eyes and mutter "I hate Christmas." as I exit. She glances at me with confusion.

As I walk back to my room, I can't help but notice the deep contrast between my mansion and her newly decorated room. Would she be willing to spend the holidays in this dark and gloomy place?

I spend the entire night making preparations.

* * *

><p><em>December 25, 2014<em>

Scarcely after the sun had risen, her shrieks of delight consumed the house and pierced my eardrums. I sighed and slowly got out of bed, pulling away the sheets and standing up to stretch.

My bare skin is greeted by cold air, as usual, but with a tinge of warmth seeping in from another room. I run my fingers through my messy hair and wince at the commotion downstairs. Why did she have to wake up so early? I'm exhausted.

She barges into my room in minutes, panting and suppressing a grin rather poorly.

"Did you do this?" She gasps.

"I've done many things. If you're referring to the catastrophe in the living room, then I suppose so." I sardonically respond.

Her smile breaks free from her restraint and she giddily rushes forward as though she wants to hug me. Her tracks abruptly stop upon seeing my exposed chest and she hastily turns around.

The corner of my lip quirks up and I walk right behind her, pulling her into an involuntary back hug.

"Like what you see?" I tease.

She clears her throat and skids forward a couple of steps, away from me. "Anyways, thank you."

I pull on a loose sweater hanging on the back of my chair and walk past her. "Well don't just stand there."

We head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where my surprise awaits. Me, strolling; her, practically skipping.

A lofty, twelve foot tree sits in the middle of the room piled high with ornaments and tinsel. A wide array of presents ranging from tiny to large fill the space under and surrounding it. The fireplace crackles and burns with warm, flickering flames. Everything else remains untouched and barren.

She stares at the immense tree in awe, her eyes practically sparkling with wonder. After ingesting the spectacle, she goes around and looks at every ornament in detail.

"All the presents are for you. If there are any you don't particularly like, just throw them out." I offhandedly mention.

"Really?" She lights up even more, kneeling down to examine the assortment of colorful gift boxes.

One by one, crystalline tears trickle down her porcelain cheeks. Not even bothering to wipe them, she looks at me and smiles. Does this girl cry at everything?

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry…it's just that every year Rinto-nii and I would try to get the biggest tree we could find. I know, it's cheesy. But it still makes me nostalgic now that he's…not here." She murmurs.

Cheesy? I scoff. "My sister and I used to get up at midnight and open one present each."

She tilts her head to the side. "Wow…that's surprisingly normal."

Then something changes and she glances at the ground in guilt. "But I didn't get anything for you."

I saunter over and crouch down in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders. My tongue darts out and I lap up a salty tear.

"Oh please, you know very well what I want." I purr.

Not reeling back or pushing me off of her, she gapes for a brief moment then sweetly smiles. Turning her head to the side, she gently presses her lips against my cheek.

Leaving them there for just a brief moment, she brushes the ends of my bangs with her fingers and blushes. "Thank you, Len."

The spot on my cheek burns. I feel my heartbeat quickening and lick my lips in desire. My hands tighten on her shoulder of their own accord and I stare into her eyes.

The jubilance and playfulness dancing in them ignite an entirely new feeling inside me. "Let's go play in the snow." I blurt out, and mentally stab myself.

She is pleasantly surprised and readily agrees, excitedly scrambling away to get her coat. I just need to cool off.

* * *

><p>Bundled up in heavy jackets, scarves, and gloves, we exit through the back door. A thick layer of pure white snow covers the withered lawn, completely transforming its exterior.<p>

She giggles in delight and throws herself onto it, ridiculously sweeping her limbs up and down.

"What are you doing?" I question.

"Making a snow angel." She cheerfully replies. "Come on, try it!"

"No."

The cold air stings my uncovered face and I grimace. Yet the place where her lips grazed my cheek continues to scorch even in the frigidity. How interesting.

Sunlight bounces off the pristine whiteness and blinds my eyes. Averting my gaze, I kneel down and pick up some snow in my palm. The dense material easily crumbles in my hands.

I pull off my gloves and swirl my finger in the powdery slush, making rough lines and obscure shapes. The freezing wetness numbs my skin and I involuntarily shiver.

A jagged chunk of ice pierces the tip of my finger, slicing it open. Drop of ruby red blood stain the surface of the snow, seeping into it. Ignoring the pain, I squeeze the cut and watch more blood dribble out and cascade into the ground.

"Hey Len, do you have any carrots?" She shouts out, breaking my train of thought.

I look up and see a haphazardly made snowman nearly as tall as she is. Two sticks jut out from its side while stones produce a smiling face on the top lump. She has taken off her own pink scarf to adorn its "neck".

"What would you need a carrot for?" I say.

As she is about to respond, I take out a small pocketknife from my coat pocket and ram it into the snowman's head. The blade further cuts my injured hand and blood streams from where I touched it.

She gasps and pouts. "Hey! It doesn't look right." Then she notices the blood trickling down the snow. "Blood? Are you okay, Len?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She takes a step forward to examine me, then halts while a mischievous grin manifests on her face. Stealthily, she scoops up some snow and pats it into a ball. Already, I can see where this is going.

"Don't throw that at me." I command.

"I'm not going to throw it." She poorly lies.

I walk towards her. "Do I look like the type of person who would enjoy a snowball fight?"

She raises the arm holding the snowball ever so slightly. "More like the type of person who would bury sharp rocks in one."

I dart forward and grab both her wrists, locking the both of us in place. "Been there, done that."

She gulps and tries to back out of my grasp. "And who was the unlucky victim?"

I tighten my hold and lean closer. "Anyone who poses a threat to me. Or you."

She opens her mouth a bit, but doesn't say anything. Our eyes fixate on each other and I scan her alluring face. Bit by bit, I inch closer.

Our lips are barely a centimeter apart as I feel heat rise between us. The desire I had previously suppressed rises again. Her breathing accelerates and her warm breath tickles my chin.

I lean in.

A tree rustles and a mass of snow hurtles towards me, knocking us to the ground.

Still clutching her wrists, I lay sprawled on top of her small body. Her eyes are tightly shut while her hands are scrunched up into little fists. Her heart thuds loudly against my chest, even through the many layers of fabric.

I feel something warm pushing against my lips and glance down to see her pink lips against mine. They're soft, and give off a sweet scent. Lip gloss?

Her eyes snap open and she flushes red. She struggles, but I hold her in place with my superior position.

Tentatively, I part my lips and brush my tongue against hers, asking for entry. She keeps her lips closed and turns to the side, denying me access.

Shrugging, I shift my position so that I loosely straddle her instead of lying on top of her.

"Aren't you going to resist?" I probe.

She doesn't answer, but averts her gaze. I guess she finally realized that her efforts would be futile.

I release her wrists and move my hands to her back, pulling her up into a sitting position. Her hands instinctively move to the ground, supporting her upper body. My eyes trail over her neck, bare and as pale as the snow around us.

Something white floats into my line of sight.

Snow drifts from the sky, falling and melting onto both the surroundings and us. The air becomes thick with flurries of snow and she gazes in wonder. Everything becomes coated with a thin layer of white powder, including us.

A large, pristine snowflake lands on her neck and melts upon contact. She shivers from the cold ever so slightly, but noticeably.

I slide my hands away from her back and strip off my dark blue scarf. She turns to me just as I drape it around her shoulders, shielding her skin from the cold. Flustered, she mumbles out a thanks and draws the cloth around herself.

She notices my cut hand and sharply inhales. "Len, your hand."

"It's fine." I say.

"No it's not." She sit up and grasps my hand in hers, scrutinizing the cuts across my palm and finger. "We should get this cleaned up."

She immediately scrambles to her feet and yanks me up with her, dragging us both back inside.

* * *

><p>I watch her as she dabs a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol at my wounds, disregarding the stinging pain. She bit her lower lip in concentration while she carefully bandages them. The evident concern standing out against her features is foreign to me.<p>

"There. All done." She states while sighing.

I reach my freshly bandaged hand out and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You have my deepest gratitude."

She rolls her eyes. "Aren't you the one who said this isn't some 19th century romance novel?"

"I see you've taken the time to remember my words." I joke.

She stutters and blushes, wringing her fingers together.

Chuckling, I pinch her cheek and head back to my library.

A small tug at my sleeve pulls me back and I glance back to see her holding my sweater, nervously pulling me back.

"What is it?" I inquire with a half-smile.

"U-Um…since it's the holidays, do…do you wanna have a…meal with me?" She peeps out.

"It would be my pleasure." I respond. She cutely cracks a small smile.

I gaze in amusement as she runs around the kitchen, tossing things into the oven and stirring bubbling pots of…stew? Broth? Something.

"It was under my assumption that my chefs would be cooking." I say.

"Well…I felt bad that I didn't get you anything for Christmas so I figured I could at least make us food." She stammers.

I raise an eyebrow. "How domestic of you. You would make a wonderful wife."

At this, she turns and frowns at me. "I'm a feminist. Women should not be subordinated into cooking and cleaning."

"Of course not." I rise from my seat and go over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Women are great for many things."

"T-The ham is burning!" She exclaims, and breaks free from my clutch.

I laugh while she continues her cooking frenzy, only a bit pinker than before.

After about half an hour, she proudly emerges with an array of holiday dishes. Turkey, casserole, dinner rolls, stuffing, beans, and pumpkin pie.

"Are you sure you aren't getting this mixed up with Thanksgiving?" I ask.

"S-Shut up! This was all I could think of." She mumbles.

She expertly arranges the dishes and even lights a few candles to set the scene. Though I prefer using candles for something much different.

The food is surprisingly good, well-seasoned and scrumptious. Its quality even rivals some of my best chefs.

Her table manners are impeccable as she takes small, delicate bites while expertly handling her utensils. Combined with her nice dress, one would mistake her for a princess straight out of a storybook.

"Enjoying the meal, your highness?" I tease.

She tenses and turns pink in embarrassment. "H-How did you know?"

Now my curiosity is peaked. "Know what?"

"N-Nevermind." She awkwardly looks down and continues eating.

"Tell me." I order.

She cringes and sighs. "Um…don't laugh…but when I was little, my dream was to become a princess when I grew up. And maybe…I never really let go of that dream."

So her wish is to be royalty? Amusing, for her age.

The meal continues in silence, and the night soon begins to fall upon us. We must have spent longer than I thought in the snow.

"Hey Len…" She begins. "Will you sing me a Christmas carol?"

I balk at the idea. Carol? I absolutely hate Christmas songs. They're all overly cheery and festive, to the point of sounding fake.

But she stares at me with wide, puppy dog eyes and pouts just a bit. My hands clench into fists. Where did she learn that dangerous expression?

Sighing, I think of a slightly less revolting song and open my mouth to sing.

_Silent night, Holy night  
>All is calm, all is bright<br>Round yon virgin, mother and child  
>Holy infant, tender and mild<br>Sleep in heavenly peace,  
>Sleep in heavenly peace.<em>

_Silent night, Holy night  
>Son of God, love's pure light<br>Radiant beams from thy holy face  
>With the dawn of redeeming grace,<br>Jesus, Lord at thy birth  
>Jesus, Lord at thy birth.<em>

_Silent night, Holy night  
>Shepherds quake, at the sight<br>Glories stream from heaven above  
>Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.<br>Christ the Savior is born,  
>Christ the Savior is born.<em>

My eyes involuntarily grow wet with tears and I quickly wipe them away, hoping she didn't notice. As I finish, I look over at her.

She is dozing off with her head resting on her hand, elbow propped on the table. A faint smile graces her lips as she drifts into a deep sleep. All that food must have put her to sleep.

Suppressing a laugh, I gather her into my arms and carry her into my room. I lay her onto the bed and pull the sheets over her, careful not to wake her. She stirs and shifts onto her side, while her smile widens despite a tear slipping out from the corner of her eye.

I get into bed next to her and lie on my back. She looks so peaceful, so angelic in her sleep. Perhaps she was sent down by God to be my salvation in this world.

"Merry Christmas, Rin." I murmur.


	10. Mutual Lust

As enjoyable as they were, my days spent solely with her are coming to a close. The wintery days of festivities pass by like a fleeting dream, and before long, I am obliged to return to that disgusting school where swarms of coarse students surround us.

My alarm clock beeps and I groan. After two weeks of complete vacation, my body cries in agony at the harsh awakening.

Why did I even transfer to that hellhole?

That's right. I need to keep an eye on her every second of every day. I've disposed of those blue-haired brats, but others could stand in my way. And anyone who gets in my way must be trampled down like the weeds they are.

Brimming with resolve, I thrust my tired body out of bed. A neat pile of folded clothes sit by my closet door, freshly washed and ironed by my trusty servants.

I pull a white button-up shirt over my chest and slid my legs into a pair of dark pants. It's still rather cold out, so I slip on my navy blue blazer.

The problem is the red tie. I'm perfectly capable of tying it, but it acts as a noose. Strangling me, tightly binding my neck as though its sole purpose in life is to choke me. I always keep it nice and loose, dangling just above my partially buttoned shirt.

My messy blond hair drifts down to my shoulder in length. I run my fingers through it and tie it up in a small ponytail, leaving it composed yet slightly sloppy.

"Len!" She shrieks, slamming open the door.

Her face is livid with horror and rage, her hands balled into tiny little fists planted on her hips. I should take a picture.

"Yes?" I respond.

"I just got a call from Miku. Did you go to their house and stab them?! Then try to cover it up with some elaborate ruse?!" She accuses.

I raise an eyebrow. Maybe I should have sent them somewhere where they can't keep in contact with her, like an asylum.

"Perhaps." I say.

"You-You…I can't…I can't even…How could you?! They were put in juvie after being released from the hospital! Miku was in intensive care! I can't believe you would go that far! And here I thought you were…" She trails off, spluttering to herself.

Yet something strikes me as odd. Not a single tear drops from her eyes; strange given her nature and the situation. As she continues shouting out incoherent sentences, I hear the word "you" many more times than either of the twins' names.

Smirking, I walk over to her and graze the skin of her upper arm with my fingers.

"It's not what I did that upsets you; it's the fact that I was capable of it." I state.

Her brows furrow in confusion. "Huh?"

"You felt yourself growing closer to me and you didn't want to believe that I was a complete monster. You wanted to think there was hope for me…for us. That's why you're like this." I speculate.

It appears my conjecture was accurate, as her eyes widen and she opens her mouth.

"I-I…well…maybe…b-but that doesn't mean th-" She stammers.

I cut her off by firmly planting my lips onto hers. Something wet falls onto my cheek and I partially open my eyes to see tears cascading from hers. Finally. I love to see her cry, especially because of me.

She remains in a stupor as I pull away and move into her ear. "You thought wrong… on one of them." I whisper.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes and I am reminded of the time. Releasing her from my grasp, I head outside.

Instantly, she swerves around. "Stop!"

I freeze. The sharp sound pierces my ears and I turn my head just slight enough to peek at her from the corner of my eye.

"You're always doing this!" She yells.

"Doing what?"

A tinge of rouge blooms on her cheekbones and she glares, flustered. "Always, like, kissing me and stuff then just walking off. Don't do that!"

Is that so? A small smile works its way onto my lips. I whirl around and yank her into a rough back hug.

"Alright. In that case, I'll never leave your side again." I murmur.

She's at a loss for words, so it seems. Her body softens against mine and warmth from the blood pulsing through her veins seeps into my skin. I can practically feel her heart pounding. Pounding with…excitement? Arousal? Happiness?

It should be with fear.

I plan on keeping that promise. Forever. I will always be with her, dead or alive.

My hand rests on her waist, enveloping her into me. Slowly it makes its way up to her stomach…then ribcage…then circles around something soft and pleasurable. A soft squeak comes from her mouth. Her small hand tugs at my sleeve, pulling me away.

Ignoring her reluctance, I transition into a slight massage. This time a moan erupts from her throat, though she quickly pushes it down. My other hand forcibly yanks up her skirt to stroke her thigh.

"I've done some bad things to your 'friends'. Just this once, I will let you punish me." I offer.

As much as I enjoy inflicting pain on others, I do not mind a little pain of my own…if it comes from her, that is.

"L-Len…" This time she has trouble holding back a gasp.

"Take the chance, I might not be so generous next time." I urge.

Her head whips up to face mine and I see lust spreading over her moist eyes. Suddenly, her hand darts forward and grabs my tie.

I loosen my grip on her, allowing her to use the shackle around my neck to pull me onto her. Our mouths battle, tongues wrestling, teeth knocking against each other. Her body pushes hard onto mine until I can feel nearly every part of her pressed into my clothes. But not every part.

Skillfully, I cup her thighs with my palms and lift them up around my hips. She tightly wraps her legs around me and grabs my face with her hands. I feel wetness coming from areas other than our mouths and instinctively head for the bed.

I throw us down onto the mattress, practically crawling on top of her. But within seconds, she flips our position and shoves me down. Her fingers nimbly undo the buttons on my shirt and I hear her suck in a sharp breath of air as she ogles at my chest, tracing it with her index finger.

Before long, her lips come crashing down against my flesh as she bites and sucks the elastic skin. I wince at the stings. This side of her… I suppose I like it. But situations like this ought to remain a rarity. The delicate balance of our seme/uke relationship can only be tipped once every so often.

I reach out and stick my hand underneath her skirt, wanting to strip away the flimsy fabric separating me from her haven. Her hands unconsciously drift to the top button of my pants while she inhales in desire. But she doesn't open it.

A tension-filled silence follows.

Our ragged breathing matches one another as we catch our breath. Sweat trickles down my face and onto my neck. Her mouth is still lubricated with a coat of saliva, either hers or mine. Maybe both mixed together. My tie hangs loosely like a red flag signaling my exposed chest, which glistens with perspiration and new bruises. I pant, waiting for her to continue.

Impatient, I thrust forward and clutch her shoulders, leaning in. To my annoyance, she pushes me away and slides off of my body and to the edge of the bed. She closes her legs and looks away while clenching and unclenching her skirt.

"What?" I groan. Dissatisfaction courses through me and a heavy flood threatens to leak out of my awakened manhood. Why must she always keep me waiting?

"This...this isn't right." She barely whispers.

Frustration takes place. "Yes it is. It was perfectly right. Until now."

She is suddenly conscious of our situation and shrivels back against the bedframe. "No…I shouldn't be doing this, not with you, not right now. I'm sorry. My hormones are just out of control. But…I'm far too young and I can't lose it to you."

"Why? We're going to eventually. I've held back all this time for you. Perhaps you're starting to think too little of me." I start to get agitated, sitting up and pushing hair out of my sweaty face.

"N-No! Just…not now. I'm not ready. Besides, doing it with you…" She trails off.

"What? What's wrong with that?" Rage begins to build inside me.

"Y-You're a crazy person! Just a very attractive crazy person who I, a teenage girl, have been locked inside of a house with for months. That's all. It's a mixture of hormones and Stockholm and I'm not losing it to that!" She shrieks.

I lunge forward, knocking her to the floor and pinning her down. This ridiculous push and pull game has gone on long enough. Who does she think she's talking to? It looks as though it's time to remind her who the master is.

"That's right, I'm a crazy person. And taunting a crazy person, like waving a slice of bacon in front of a wolf's nose, is a dangerous thing. So I don't think I can stop at this. No, I'm going to need more now that you've started this." I growl.

"I'm sorry…please don't." She whimpers.

Weeks. Months. I waited. I shoved down my desires for her and now I'm so close to what I want. How dare she deny me it? Always refusing me and keeping me on edge. Sneaky little bitch. Why don't I make it so that she can't anymore?

I reach out and clasp the back of her neck, squeezing the tendons and bones. She cringes and half raises a hand to protect herself while producing a faint sob. I'll make her weep. I'll make her scream and bawl with fear and pain.

"There is a nerve right here." I say. "If I severe it, you will be paralyzed from neck down."

Her breathing accelerates and she is now visibly shaking. Such a glorious sight.

"I will be able to do whatever I want with you and you will be able to do nothing, except shriek and snivel."

She tightly shuts her eyes and tears flow fast down her cheeks. I dart out my finger and catch one, bringing it to my lips and licking the salty fluid in pleasure. It seems as though I am forgetting something.

I release my clutch, allowing her to drop onto the floor. As I walk past her, I bend down for a second to yank out a few strands of her hair. The silky flaxen fibers rest peacefully in my palm as I exit the door and step into my waiting limousine. Just a little something to occupy myself with at school.


End file.
